8
CODY
“Are you from Arly?” Cody says. She thinks Penn must be hot, wearing all those furs. He’s draped from head to toe in plush, blue-ticked skins, an ilk bred for snow, and the sun is high.
Cody’s never seen a blue-ticked beast before.
But she hasn’t been to Arly, either.
“No,” Penn says. They’re walking side-by-side through the middle of the road. “And I hope I never have a good enough reason to go there.” He winks. “Aren’t you going to ask me why?”
Cody shrugs. She’s seldom spoken to anyone aside from her sisters. Maybe when she was small, before the burning of Ithil, she babbled to strangers. But she isn’t quite sure how to do it anymore.
And Penn is unlike anyone she’s ever met. She feels embarrassed around him. He’s much bigger than she is, and he smiles too much.
